Drabbles of HieixKurama
by Kuroi In a Black Hole
Summary: Another drabble series! Yaoi, though mainly Shounenai. Read, Review, Enjoy! HieixKurama goodness! or KuramaxHiei, whichever. Includes angst, humor, romance, philosophy, drama. HK! Shounenai warning. Review Please! Reviews fuel the plot bunnies!
1. Chapter 1

BMF: Hey, my drabble series that will be HieixKurama, for the most part! Enjoy, cherish, and don't flame on this pairing. It is YAOI!!! Don't read if you don't like. Not my problem if you dislike the pairing.

Disclaimer. Okay, I think this is PRREEEEEEEEEEEETTTTYYYYYY obvious, since the site IS fanifction. Do you think i own anything? (besides HieixKurama plushies! -)

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It started as a school girl crush, small smiles, light touches, snuck kisses in the backroom. A secret relationship. In public, they acted the same, no one knew. So, it became one of the many secrets they kept.

Then, it became more then a school crush. More then a kiss in the pantry, or soft touches in the dark. No, this was more. And they moved hesitantly into this realm they had been to before, but never together. This was a world of low, needy moans, slick sweat, silent screams, arched backs and spasms of pleasure. Where hands pulled at locks of hairs, lips clashed, tongues danced, skin on skin. Where fire met earth, and consumed each other in a storm of passion.

And as the sun shed its light on the realm they had reached, one realized the other had fled, and sighed in resignation. The chase had begun.

Fire, being the feisty, untamable spirit it was, and gone in a panic, unsure of how to deal. Earth, patient and steady, calmly tracked him down and smothered the spirit of fire, born from ice, in love. Stiff and confused, fire turned to his lover.

"But why? Why me? I'm cold and distant, cruel and hateful." He began. Earth chuckled softly.

"You are nothing of the sort. You're cold because you've never been loved. I love you. You're distant because you've never been held tightly. I will hold you forever. You say you're cold, I say you're fair. You say you're cruel, I say merciful. You're compassionate and innocent, loyal and calm, feisty and passionate. And cute, on top of it." He explained gently to the shocked spirit in his arms.

The fire spirit gasped softly. Did the other really think that? Was it all not just his imagination? Relaxing in his lover's arms, the tension flowed out and trickled onto the ground as he leaned against his taller counterpart.

This was what they had both waited for forever. And now it would last forever.

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BMF: Ok, how was it? (hopeful look) See the little purplish button? i bet if you press it, something MAGICAL will happen...- Review, please? 


	2. Falling in this Hell called Despair

BMF: YES!! A new drabble! Maybe the couple dozen I have sitting in a notebook will FINALLY get up here! HAH!! And I must thank, before I go any further, BlueUtopiah again! Thanks for the review! Here's your update...ish... -

Disclaimer: Once again, I own nothing but the angst. (warning: this is angsty. Don't whine about it.)

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Falling, falling, endlessly falling, spiraling into the blackness. The emptiness of loneliness. Nothing is visible anymore, nothing is shining. What once was has vanished into the night and has yet to return. The shining star of hope has dimmed, the sun extinguished. Even the moon is gone, along with the cool, calm peace. Only the darkness remains.

A _plip_ resounds into the emptiness, soon followed by another, another, another. Echoes bounce off invisible walls, returning along the same path. Soft, muffled cries accompany the steady _plip_s and a light illuminates the single figure in the darkness, hunched over in grief. Blood covers him from head to toe. A bath of blood.

Softly, ever so softly, footsteps are heard. One other is in the eternal darkness. The gentle footfalls halt near the lone figure and crouches down, lank blonde hair covering the face. He places a hand on the other's shoulder, comforting silently. Finally, a word is spoken into the sobs.

"Why are you here? What has occurred in your life to send you to this wretched place?" Eyes, red from crying, looked into the kind face then took a breath.

"My lover…my lover died in my arms. I had no where else to go. My life has no purpose without him. No reason to live." He whispered softly, an aching pain lacing his words. The blonde man's hand clenched on his shoulder.

"I see. But do you not have a family? Friends?" the blood covered one shook his head.

"My family died long ago. My friends…my friends are gone as well. He was the only reason I lived."

"I am sorry. I truly am sorry. May I ask if anything else is wrong?"

"My chest…my chest hurts so much…..my heart…!" he muttered, tears threatening to fall again. Suddenly, a loud SNAP filled the bleak darkness, and he fell to the floor, screaming silently. The sound of glass breaking, hitting the ground, splintering had the blonde man shaking. Never had this happened so suddenly, so violently. He laid a palm on the others head and concentrated. An image formed in his mind, shaky and soundless.

Two figures lay on the ground, or rather, one lay next to the other, who was kneeling beside him. Frantic gestures by the kneeling figure brought a small smirk to the other's face. A sudden flash of lightning revealed the gaping hole in the pale one's stomach and the blood spattered on the other. Then, as the pale one's eyes fluttered closed, the other male slumped over him, shoulders shaking.

The blonde man was forced out of the memory, clutching his head. That had taken more then he thought it would. This person was guarded.

He who had collapsed sat up slowly, hand held tightly over his chest. He stared blankly up into blue eyes, comprehending nothing.

"Who was your lover to you?" the blue eyed man asked softly. The other waited a moment.

"He…he was my everything. My constant companion and best friend. He was my lover. He was my mate." He responded and the man gasped. Never had demons come here. Many never mated, so the loss of a lover never constituted to coming to this pit of despair and lost hope. This was a problem.

"May I ask your name, young one?" he questioned, so as to have time to think.

"Kurama." He said softly. "And yours? In return?"

"I am known as Despiro. The guardian of this world. And, if I'm not intruding, your lover's name?" Kurama hiccupped, then muttered,

"Hiei, his name is Hiei." The glass shattering sound returned, and Despiro could only watch as Kurama sunk back into grief, loneliness, loss and despair. He had hoped that this would never happen. Most people only stayed for a little while, a day or two, a week at most. Kurama, on the other hand, would never leave. He had nothing to leave for. He would remain in the deepest recess of this world of hell forever, until he died. Despiro climbed to his feet, looking down at Kurama, whose heart had shattered, soul broken and lost.

"Kurama, may you find your own way out in time. Until then, live. And Welcome. Welcome to the hell called despair."

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BMF: Done! Hah! When I wrote this, I actually didn't know where I was going with the topic. Funny, huh? Anyway, too angsty? Too OOC? Tell me? Please? See the little purple button? Press it! See what it does! 


	3. Valentine's Day

BMF: ok, another drabble, another angsty drabble 'causei i have yet to type up the happy ones...hehe, so here it is!

Disclaimer: Ok, i think that, once again, the name FANFICTION should give you a clue. I don't own anything or else Hiei and Kurama would be a canon pairing.

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**Shattering**

It's all just a memory, just a distant, piercing memory. It surrounds and suffocates, leaves lungs gasping for much needed breath. The smell of salt saturates the air, red puffy eyes the source.

Soft sobs echoed off the walls, each one heart wrenching, breaking cries of loneliness and loss. Complete and utter sorrow found its home on the shallows of despair deep in a broken soul.

Tears fall onto a single picture, stains over stains. Tan fingers, delicate in structure and touch, shook, the picture vibrating with the motion. Whispers telling of shocking emptiness were uttered, just loud enough to be heard.

"What happened….where did you..." sobs interrupted the broken speech. "Where did you go? I'm so lost….gone…dead….why did you leave me behind? I could have….I could have gone with you. Oh god, what happened...what happened to us? You're gone…..so far away…help me please, Hiei. I…I…I can't see anything anymore…it's all dark now…"

The red haired figure groped blindly around, reaching for his lost lover. Sobs still wracked his frame.

"Oh kami, Hiei, I'm so pitiful. So desperate. Now that you're gone, there's nothing…nothing left anymore…..why did you go? Why? Why? WHY?" he screamed the last word, looking at the picture in his hands, tear stains now more vibrant. "Why did you go and die on me Hiei? I…I loved you…so much. Damn you…damn you..." Kurama could feel his already shattered heart crack even more, sending the pieces deep into the recesses of his mind.

"Hiei…Hiei." Tears streamed anew down the lightly tanned face, red locks hiding him from the rest of the world. "Come…come back. Please…come back to me." With these last words whispered like a mantra, he collapsed to the floor, silently crying. Not a sound emerged, save the singular echo of hearts shattering.

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BMF: is hit by OOC paint bucket erg...itaiiii...review please? twinkle twinkle...wittle stars...

Thank you to:

BlueUtopiah

Kuroi Tamashi


	4. Attack of

BMF: Ok. another drabble. A little late in coming and a relief from the angst. This is NOT angst. YAY!!!! coughs anyway, to my reviewers,

**Tori:** Well, Chapter Three could have been a continuation of chapter Two, if you wanted to see it that way. Not my intention, but it must look like that. Thanks for the review!

BlueUtopiah:Thanks again!! Love the comments!!

Now, Disclaimer: Once again, if you want to sue, remember, this is called a FANFICTION. Which means that a fan wrote it! No suing allowed. yeesh.

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Attack

Kurama really didn't become annoyed at much. It took a lot to make him loose his cool. The ever present cloak of calm and collectedness hung on his shoulder constantly, giving everyone else presence of mind to act up and goof off.

But this, this was pushing it. It was grating on is nerves, causing him unending physical and mental pain. He would loose precious sleep hours and study time. Nail marks made homes in his palms as he clenched his fists out of aggravation. He was loosing his sanity bit by bit as the merry jingle played out in the background.

_'Five gold ring, four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree!' _

It never stopped. The Christmas jingles. Over and over. Constantly, every night, in the afternoon, when he got home, when he left, they were playing. And it was the middle of March. Three months AFTER Christmas. He had heard them all. All the merry, happy tunes that people played, all the strange songs that came on. And he had thought that Hiei would never like them.

Oh, how wrong he was. The fire demon immediately got attached to the CDs, going as far as to threaten Kurama when the teen tried to put them away after the holiday ended. Kurama figured that he would grow tired of them after a few days. And he was wrong again.

Hiei borrowed Kurama's boom box (Kurama called it stealing), hooked up speakers (from god knows where) and blasted the music till the neighbors complained. Hiei threw one of Kurama's books at their window (at which Kurama grew furious at) and they stopped, though the sword brandished at them probably contributed to their reluctance to criticize. Kurama noted the sound proofing they employed the same day.

Three months later, the songs were still playing. The songs that cycled through ten different CDs, and the same song came on every two hours, twelve minutes and forty-two seconds. He had counted. With a stopwatch. Every two hours, twelve minutes and forty-two seconds, he heard '_Jingle Bells'_ and _'Frosty the Snowman'_ over and over again. Those two songs were only thirty-one minutes and five seconds apart.

Kurama, on the verge of pulling his hair out, decided that something must be done about the songs. His was face pale and insomnia rings circled blood shot eyes. His mind made up on what to do, he climbed to his feet to answer the door. His plan would be put into action soon. Very soon. The Christmas songs would pay dearly.

He answered the door to find Yusuke standing their, concerned and confused. His ears tuned to the sounds of Christmas music floating through the house.

"Um, Kurama? Why is _Deck the Halls_ still playi….What the heck is wrong with you?" he noticed the maniacal look on the normally unruffled demon's face. Kurama stared blankly at him.

"The music….the music is going to pay quite dearly. Do you want to watch the destruction of the lovely Christmas music?" His voice was wistful and full of promised mayhem. Yusuke took a step back, clearly not wanting to get involved.

"Uh…..Kurama? Are you okay? Do you need any sort of, er, help?" he prodded gently, afraid to unbalance the teen any more. Kurama shook his head.

"No, I suspect that I should destroy the evil CDs on my own. You can watch," he offered once again. Yusuke shook his head.

"No man, I think I should be leaving now…" He trailed off, and Kurama shut the door without any further words. Yusuke walked off, just as confused, if not more so, then when he arrived. Since when did anyone play Christmas music three months after Christmas? And when was Kurama ever flustered, not to mention psychotic?

Kurama, on the other hand, was more then pleased with himself. The CDs would pay for the sanity they stole from him. He climbed the stairs, eagerly approaching the sacred room known, to Hiei, as the 'Room of Musical Wonders'. Kurama called it his bedroom which had been invaded by horrible, irritating noise.

Thankfully, Hiei had left for an hour to get his daily exercise; spying on his sister. He had left the portable CD player behind this time. The boom box was still playing its music. The maniacal grin returned as Kurama reached behind the door and pulled out a heavy duty shredder, the one that can shred CDs beyond repair or use. The CD currently playing went in, and the fox demon enjoyed the sound of it breaking, shattering and generally becoming a heap of useless material. The next one in the pile joined its companion and was destroyed. Kurama fed the next eight into the machine, then pulled out a vial of acid.

He popped the cork, the dripped some onto his boom box. He no longer had any use for the horrible thing that allowed the music to be played. Smoke, acrid and black, billowed up from the stereo, and the small CD player went next.

He pulled a small seed out, dropped it on the two melted piles of plastic and electronics, and grew it. A horde of vines sprang up and covered the still dripping music players and enveloped them, cocooning them inside and becoming impenetrable. Kurama nodded satisfactorily and headed back downstairs to report the good news to Yusuke. The Christmas music was gone, never to return. It was no small loss that the boom box went with it.

Yusuke picked up the ringing phone, wondering if Kurama had regained his lost sanity.

"Moshi Moshi, Yusuke speaking."

"Ah, Yusuke, this is Kurama. Sorry about earlier. I was….distracted." Yusuke snorted.

"Yeah, distracted, whatever. Now, can you tell me why Christmas music was still playing in your house." A slight cough came from the other end.

"About that. Hiei…well, he became…attached…to the CDs. He played them all the time." Yusuke choked. Hiei? Hiei liked Christmas music?

"Okay……what did you do to them? You were muttering about destroying the 'lovely Christmas music.' You offered to let me watch. What did you do?" He laughed at Kurama's disgruntled sigh.

"I destroyed them." He said shortly.

"What did you do to them?" Yusuke repeated. "And not just 'I destroyed them.' Details."

"I shredded the CDs, dripped acid and burned the Boom Box and the CD player and wrapped both in vines. The Christmas music will never, ever enter the house. Now, I must go. Sorry about earlier." Yusuke didn't hear Kurama hang up as he had dropped to the ground, rolling with laughter. Kuwabara stumbled across him ten minutes later, still laughing, and asked what happened. Yusuke reiterated the story, albeit a bit breathless, and thus was the tale of the Attacking Christmas Jingles told to all children. And Hiei's reaction to all this? Well, let us just say that Kurama was sleeping, peacefully however, on the couch for the next three weeks.

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BMF: sweats Wehw, i think thats probably the longest drabble I've written on the computer. Three pages! Wow...random inspiration strikes again! Ahah!!

Oh, you see the little purple button? see it? see it? PUSH IT! PUSH IT!


	5. I refuse

**BMF**: Okay, alright, yes, it has been a few months. And I can't really blame it on anything else but myself either 'cause I had drabbles already typed up. I was just too lazy to post them. (hides) GOMEN NASAI!!

**Shia Nosake**:Thanks a lot! I can too. Actually, I don't have to see it. This is all based off the fact that my brother continually played Christmas songs when he went to bed and still would, if you weren't on vacation. And it's JULY!!!!!!! Ugh...I pleaded with my mom to go and break the CD's and take th eboombox away but she wouldn't let me...(grumbles about insipid mothers)

**PurpleCow12:** EEK! (runs and hides from PurpleCow12 carrying a torch) I BE SORRY!!!!!!!!!!! DON'T KILL ME!! THEN I WON'T BE ABLE O PUT ANOTHER ONE UP!!!! (hides behind Kurama) You wouldn't want to kill him would you? (coughs) ok, sanity temporarily regained. Thanks for the review! Here's your update!!

**Neverfall:**Ugh, don't even mention Christmas music...the only thing I managed to hide from my brother was the stupid singing Christmas tree thing. Thanks for the review!

**Disclaimer**: (sighs) No, i still haven't managed to acquisition property rights of Yu Yu Hakusho but I do own the entire series on DVD now!! (jumps for joy) Oh, and i found a pic of Hiei as a kitty! If you send me your email i send it to you! Es Kawaii!!!!!!

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"I refuse fox," Hiei stated clearly. Kurama pouted in his chair as he leaned against the airplane window. Hiei was currently huddled in his own seat, obviously uncomfortable and disliking the fact that he had to ride in some ningen contrivance. His hands were clasping Kurama's free hand tightly and he was trying not to curl against his counterpart. 

"But Hiei, it would be fun!" Kurama whined. Hiei snorted, momentarily distracted, and he turned his red eyes on Kurama.

"In your dreams fox. I refuse." Kurama smiled coyly.

"In yours too Hiei. But wouldn't you want to know? Just to see?" Hiei shook his head, tight lipped.

"No way you crazy youko. I don't want to be involved in any plot scheme you have cooked up and definitely nothing involving this……this _ningen contraption_," he spat. Kurama smiled and wound an arm around Hiei's waist slyly, feeling the koorime tense.

"But Hiei….." Hiei growled.

"No! I refuse!" Hiei snapped.

"Ah, spoilsport," Kurama pouted.

"Horny pervert. Get your issues resolved somewhere else."

"But you're my snuggle bunny!" He said happily. Hiei choked and turned to stare at Kurama.

"Your WHAT?"

"Awe, I thought your hearing was perfectly fine Hiei. Do I need to repeat myself that badly?" Hiei continued to stare without saying a word, so Kurama took devices into his own hands. "So, Hiei, you wanna? We can join the…." Hiei interrupted him.

"No, I am not joining anything that you have concocted in your mind and I am not having sex with you on a plane!" The guy in the seat behind them, who had been listening to the entire conversation with a mild curiousity, fainted. Kurama pouted, but Hiei's stubborn expression and the fact that his palm was beginning to burn had him dropping the subject. He'd get him back later. At their hotel.

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**BMF**: i was so tempted to leave it off at Hiei's last sentence...seriously tempted. But my muses were threatening to kill me if I did so...oh, and if anyone has ideas and suggestion I will be more than pleased to read them and potentially write them. Actually, i probably would. And you get a chapter dedicated to you! (smiles)

Oh, and could you, potentially, click that little purple button? I've been wondering what it did for a while now...(whistles innocently) please?


	6. To fly

**BMF:** Hey! I be back! and so soon... Thank you for the reviews **LunarMercury** (and the suggestion. I'll get around to it soon!) and **Petulant Purple Princess**! (Bows) Arigato Gozaimasu!!

Disclaimer: (sigh) I haven't managed to get my share of YYH in stock. So i have yet to actually own it. Woe is me. And whatever show you picture, I don't own that either. sorry.

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Quietly, a pair of vermilion eyes peered through the railing of the stairs, watching what the kitsune called a television. Currenlty, the screen was displaying two ningens twirling around on the floor, moving their feet and hands, smiling as the crowd of their peers screamed. Confused, he turned and fled back up to his friend's room, determined to sate his curiosity.

Kurama was finishing the last of an essay when Hiei interrupted him, tapping him on the shoulder. Irritated, he turned to give him a reproving stare but stopped when all he saw was inquisitiveness in the crimson gaze. He sighed. The hiyoukai undoubtedly had some question about something he was determined to know.

"Yes Hiei?" The fire demon muttered something that was unintelligible. Kurama grinned inwardly and asked again.

"I want to know what ningens call that….._movement_ they do," Hiei finally answered. Kurama frowned.

"You're going to have to be much more specific than that Hiei. I cannot read minds, unlike some of us." Hiei scowled but clenched his teeth and replied.

"When they throw someone else around the floor and move their feet and hands strangely, like if they had a weapon they could do battle with it." Kurama's eyes widened in recognition. Hiei had obviously been watching one of his mother's shows from the stairs.

"Ah, dancing." Hiei nodded. His slightly flushed face and inability to make eye contact had a light bulb popping up in Kurama's busy mind. "Would you like to learn Hiei? Especially since you cannot fight until that wound heals," Kurama said, gesturing at Hiei's bandaged side.

Hiei shuffled around a bit, avoiding the topic and attempting to walk away altogether, but a few words from Kurama stopped him.

"Many humans find dancing a very appealing sport and it helps train the body to be more aware of itself and its surroundings." Hiei had halted but he didn't turn. Kurama took it as a sign of acknowledgement . "Dancing is similar to battle in many of the basic forms. Battle and dancing both require enormous skill; both are ways of expression, though dance usually hurts others less on principle, and both are used to convey some message, such as anger or want or need or hate. It is a very simple skill if you know what you are doing and many humans find it an essential skill." He had, apparently, said the right thing. The hiyoukai always wanted to be better at anything humans could do no matter what it was, from speaking other languages to science experiments. This was no different, Kurama mused, as Hiei motioned for him to follow and the two, one grinning wickedly, bounded towards the nearest forest.

Hiei stopped in a clearing a ways away from civilization and turned back to the kitsune with an adamant look on his face.

"Ok, show me how." Kurama smothered a chuckle. Hiei was just so cute sometimes. Always such a child with unlimited expectations.

"Just a moment Hiei. Dancing is something that comes naturally. All that is usually required is refinement of natural talent. But first, you must find a beat. A beat," Kurama answered the unasked question, "is a rhythmic stressing and unstressing of musical notes. It helps the body find its center and accomplish a movement. Here, I will show you," Kurama said and closed his eyes.

For a moment, he stood completely still, eyes closed, before his lids slowly opened, viridian green irises blazing, and his lithe body, still clad in a soft white nightshirt and flowing pants, moved effortlessly. His face was more open than Hiei had ever seen it, portraying so many emotions Hiei didn't know which one to judge. Wind whipped through the clearing, flattening the flannel to Kurama's pale skin and stopping Hiei's heart in his throat.

Kurama moved beautifully, inexorably, towards an unseen end. He longed, hoped, wept and celebrated in a span of five minutes, showing each portion clearly and emotionally. Eyes usually hard and unreadable were suddenly a book, every small feeling the fox wished for flitting through as they gazed towards the unseen. He stopped next to Hiei and breathed deeply, smiling down at the koorime. Hiei searched for words to describe the scene and ended up saying something completely different.

"Your….dancing. It looked like you wanted something. What was it?" Kurama stiffened, then relaxed.

"Ah Hiei, what am I ever going to do with you? Too observant to hide things from yet too naïve to see what is right in front of your face." He shook his head. "I'll tell you, but only if you dance with me for a few minutes." Hiei scowled, but in the anticipation of finding answers he clasped Kurama's hand and joined him in the clearing, twirling and stepping around the grass. Hiei felt himself being led, but didn't care as he stared at the face of one Kurama Minamino, dance teacher extraordinaire. Kurama laughed, Hiei chuckled, and they both fell to the ground, dizzy and disoriented. Hiei took this chance to lean over and kiss a rather surprised Kurama, who blinked emerald eyes at him.

"Hiei…?" he murmured. Hiei shushed him.

"No choices for you fox. I get what I want, than you get what you want. And I want to fly like that again. Fly on the ground," Hiei said, breath tickling Kurama's lips. Kurama smiled widely and nodded, picking himself and Hiei off the ground. Hiei's cloak was summarily discarded as the small koorime found a new passion in the arms of the ancient kitsune.

For the next three hours, and at least an hour each night, Hiei demanded to 'fly on the ground' in the far clearing. And Kurama, being the whimsical and needy fox he is, complied. He also gladly taught him the finer points to moving in dance and happily made his own choreography when Hiei asked it of him. Hiei bet that, if Kurama ever danced for fame, every professional dancer would be out for his head. The red haired demon turned human flew, as Hiei so eloquently put it, beautifully, flipping, spinning and occasionally drawing his fire demon into the rhythm.. He also received his share of kisses during those sessions, and anything that brought the small fire youkai closer to him was all that he wanted. So they danced, underneath the light of a brightly white moon and reveled in the shared experience of flying on the ground.

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**BMF: **Ah, done! And i now have incentive to review! If you leave your email at the door (leave spaces between the periods, the and the words or else it doesn't transmit) then i cans send you a pic of Neko Hiei! (Kawaii!!) or whatever of your choosing. If you want. Eh...(shrug)Review!!!! Neko Hiei can be yours!!!! Meh!  



	7. Waiting

**BMF:** I'm Back! I actually have another one typed up...Don't worry, I am working on the next chapter of AVERAGE. Mer. Anyway, here's a new drabble!

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"Will you wait for me?" You asked.

"I'll wait forever." I replied. You smiled, replied the same, and left. You came back soon, and we lived a while longer together. Then you asked again.

"Will you wait for me?" I smiled

"I'll wait forever." I replied again, as did you. You left once more, and once more I waited. You came back, and life continued peacefully for a while longer. Later, you asked again.

"Will you wait for me?" And for the third time, I replied,

"I'll wait forever." But this time, you never came back. I waited, and waited. I waited forever. But you never returned. I worried, I wondered, I went mad with grief. But I cannot wait any longer Hiei. I have waited forever. The stars are dying, the universe is collapsing. The earth is almost gone, and Makai is in chaos. It has been forever. My family has died, our friends are gone. They have returned to Enma. But I have waited. Just as I said, I have waited. I cannot any more. It has been futile, these years of waiting. I have left my human life behind, and I retain only that form.

But it is gone Hiei. Everything. The only thing that keeps me in this world is my love, my promise to you. I slowly deteriorate inside, and my mind has drifted off, nearly becoming insane. I cannot see anything left, and the layers of mystery have deepened.

Gomen Nasai, Hiei, but I cannot wait. I'm leaving, my body is dying. I am surviving on will alone. As the planet dies, I die with it. It all ends, and Forever comes to a close. It is all ending.

As I fade, I see you, standing there, holding your arms out, waiting for me.

"I'm sorry Hiei." I whispered. "I can't wait any longer. I tried to wait. I waited forever. But you never came back," I whispered in despair. You smirked.

"I'm still waiting, and I have for the past millennium. Foolish Fox." I noticed how wispy you were, and it dawned on me.

"You're dead." You smirked again.

"Good job fox. I'm here to take you home." He held out his hand to me, and I reached for it, the warmth that I had missed for so long. I clasped my hand in his, and pulled him tight, wrapping my arms around him, nearly sobbing in relief.

"You're back." I said softly. You nodded, looking up into my face.

"I've waited for you fox. I've waited and watched. Thank god you're here." He placed a soft kiss on my lips. "Thank god." And we walked away, my body lying in the dirt beside my forest. He had waited, and now we were together. And we would wait for forever together.

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**BMF**: My thanks to Lunarmercury! I appreciate the review! (bows) This one started out angsty and would have ended angsty if my muses hadn't threatened to kill me...(deadpanns)

The offer for the NekoHiei pic is still there! If you review and leave an email or something (remember people, spaces between the dots and at symbols) I'll send it! (Smile)

So, review! Leave your name and comments and suggestions at the door!!! SANKYUU!!!


	8. The Choices we Make, what we Forsake

I could recount reasons for my choice, many and far flung. I could explain for hours the purpose of my actions, leading you to the edge of an abyss then letting you fall, watching as you grasp for a handhold that does not exist. I could tell you it was all planned out and manipulated to become what it has today, that I had every intention of letting what happened occur. I could twist words in a way you would never believe, to play games with your mind that would have many following like a puppy on a leash, a trail of ants to honey. I could lead you astray, take you far away and drop you in the remotest corner of thought and logic that you would struggle to find your way back, to make sense of it all. I could, I even would, if it was not you. So now, listen closely love, to what I say. It will be the first, the last, and the only time.

A child was born in a forest unknown to many. He was a child that the world seemed to hold its breath for, the child with a mind of quick wit and agility unheard and unseen in millennia, a genius that held the rare quality and immense potential for growth. And he was left for dead by parents who could not raise him in a world that preyed on the young and helpless. While he could not gain the strength needed to protect himself, he became ensnared in the realm of deadly games, those of thieving and escaping. His games started small, pick-pocketing, shiny items from hovels and small shops. He amused himself with them, found the enjoyment of evasion and relishing in his victory.

Once though, when the boy was small, he grew weary of such childish games, those that merely tested one's ability to avoid capture and required no real skill, no thought as to what plans he could take, the plotting of a good heist. Games which were entertaining but failed to hold his attention. So, in an attempt to outmaneuver his foe as he most desperately desired, he turned to bigger games, ones that called for a quick mind, agile and smooth. One that could see the entire weave as well as the individual strings. Where nimble fingers and fast feet were not only desired but required. He turned to theft, theft that was dangerous and exciting. Theft from the rich and powerful.

At first, the boy was poor, fumbling and inadequate, barely able to retreat with his life many a time. He was tormented as a child, both for being beautiful and weak. Day and night he was never left alone, someone always there to remind him of his effeminate looks that garnered him so much attention and his meager skills that so contrasted the ethereal appearance he had been bestowed. Or cursed with. He was barely able to eke out a life in his world, the world of the damned. His body was thin, constantly scratched and bruised, his ribs bumps under his fingers. In time though, he grew. Grew in ability, for how could one not, with the time and patience, the thoughts and agility of the mind he was blessed with. Grew in looks, into the form that would be, and had been, desired by many. But still, in strength, he was much weaker than he needed to be. He was sought after, lusted for, and eventually taken, once again, without his consent. His mind snapped, changed, and became his most effective and deadly weapon. He refused to be such a child any longer. His days as the boy who was tortured, unable to fight back, were over. He locked his weakness away behind shields and barriers, hid it deep within himself, so deep that he could not find it if he tried his hardest. And he became the cold, ruthless, merciless fighter, the successful thief, that he longed for. He was a legend among legends, said to be able to steal the stars from the sky, able to snatch your soul in the blink of an eye. He could break open the most sealed vault with ease and eliminate those in his way with stealth, speed, and skill that had been dreams of others in days past.

His schemes were many and unrivaled. He was the best of the best in his class and sought to become better, to reach the pinnacle of his career and outdo himself. He wanted the power to rule, and with a small group, set out to gain that power. His best man, reckless and unable to hold orders, invaded without direction, killed his men, and was eventually eliminated from the thief's side. So, in his bid for conquest, he sought another, and found him in the form of one that held a special place in his heart, for a time. This man had talent to rival the thief's own, and their heists unabled to be gainsaid. They were an unbeatable team, until his partner was killed and he left running for his life. While his grief was huge, it too was locked away behind the impenetrable walls of his heart and mind, and he returned to his solo vocation. He had little else to do.

While his talents were many, he was not invincible, as he was so proven one day, the day that he was killed, allegedly. His spirit though, disliked the prospect of refuting this game he had spent his life learning, perfecting. He had given his heart for this game, his sanity left flapping in the wind. He was not ready to move on. In desperate hope for continued life, he hid himself in the body of another, another unborn soul. This impossibility, an aberration of the natural order, forced him to hide, give up his hard-earned strength and revert to a weak child again. He was determined to regain it. His reputation could withstand the punishment of childhood, and he did so, admirably. As he grew again, he was two in one. He was the soul that had been there before and he was the legendary thief. He was a curious, inquisitive, innocent child and a cold hearted killer. He was the oxymoron of unfeasibility. And so he grew, molding his new life into that of the perfect son, the one he had not been in his former life. He was praised for his quick intuition, puzzled over for his distant personality, fawned over for his unique appearance and frowned on for his inability to gain friends. His mother was questioning as to her only child's strange behavior. He as nothing like any other child she had seen. They were loud and constantly asking questions. Her little boy seemed to act as if he knew all there ever was to know and more. he was silent and his probing gaze dissected everyone and everything. It was unnerving, but she still adored her baby. Still, he had his mind made up. When he was at an age where he could regain his former skill, he would leave; abandon her for his life as a thief.

He fully intended to carry out his plan. He never intended to stray and linger behind. The course had been set, the lines taunt, waiting for the inevitable tug so as to revert back to their previous position, to realign and correct the pattern. But fate had something else in store for him. The weave was maligned, distinctly not the same as before.

He was still a child, young, not even ten, and he nearly lost the life he had worked so hard to regain. When his mother saved him, his cold, darkened soul could only wonder as to why. Why would this human save another at the potential cost of her own life? What made a person able to save someone else? How could anyone like this exist? In his world, you held only yourself in mind. No one would watch your back. You were left to your own devices and if another attempted to force you aside, they died or you did. He did not understand why this woman helped him. She told him she loved him. He was her child. It was only natural, is what she explained when you asked. He did not, could not, quite understand what she meant. So, in order to sate his curious mind, he remained. He wanted to know, know as to why he had be spared, why this one human loved him. No one loved him. They wanted him for themselves, but never loved him. So what was different? He intended to find out.

Even as he sought the knowledge that had cost him his carefully thought out plans, the walls that he had so carefully built to hide his emotions, ones to keep his weaknesses away from the surface, came crashing down for this woman, this mother of his second soul. He was not one to find love and comfort in another being, but this woman was different. She loved him, the him that he had become. This perfect son of hers, the one he had created. This he could not understand, but, as he slowly discovered, he did not want to. He wanted this love, this unconditional emotion that she showed him. He bathed in it as a plant in light. He had been reborn, given a new start, a new beginning. One that he had missed out on the first time.

Nevertheless this love that he felt had its downfalls. When his mother grew ill, he nearly sacrificed his life to restore hers. He could not have done anything else; he had a dept to repay, and he did so whole heartedly. The boy had come to his resolution, to save the woman who saved him. He would die or her life, for that love she had so wholeheartedly given him, and found peace in that thought. He did not expect to be spared what he believed his ultimate fate, the death that he had escaped years ago. The weave had plans for him yet, it seemed. He had another role to play before the pattern was finished.

Time passed and he matured, and his role as a perfect son was soon his façade to protect her; he could do little more than lie to her. Unavoidably though, the lies he told grew to be a part of him, the second soul he harbored and had diverted the weave so miraculously was soon a second personality. The façade had become his existence. As his lies were told, uttered to help her remain oblivious and happy, he did not care. As long as he could stay near her and hold that love in his heart, he would do anything. His plans to return to a life of constant adrenaline and action, of theft and mind twisting plots, were left unheeded. He was summoned occasionally to provide his skill and expertise in the area of manipulating minds and battling others, though not nearly as often as he had once been. He now no longer thirsted for the chase, the thrill of a perfect escapade, the want of blood in a heated battle. He desired what he had learned from this woman, this human who had shown him emotions he thought were myth, had once been myth in his previous land of the forbidden and damned. He wanted the love, the compassion, the kindness, the humanity, the warmth that his, no, his second soul's mother, gave him. That was all. His simple desire, his simple choice, to keep those emotions was the reason he had chosen stayed with her.

And, in the depths of his heart, a love sprung, a love of a different kind. One that was fueled by the kindness shown by his mother and the fiery personality of the one he held dear. While his mind was still an impregnable trap, he had been tempered and had only the distant wish to return. He had found his place, and he belonged where he was wanted, needed, desired and in turn desired. His abnormal story unfinished, he was an anomaly. He was merciless yet caring, cold yet gentle, unforgiving and still loving. But he was loved, and that was all that he needed. The rest of the story will, one day, write itself our, with his love at his side to help the ink flow smoothly with little falter in script, to help him hold on when his walls tumbled down late at night and he shivered as memories assaulted his dreams. This love, these loves that he held, were near, dear, to him and he wished only to keep them as close as possible. This hypocritical being, once cold and heartless now soothed his love's temper and his once locked away heart brimming with love. The damned turned human, how extremely ironic.

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**Kuroi: **My first attempt at a philosophical fic. Tell me how I did, please? 

Thanks to all reviewers!! I appreciate the comments!!

**Lunarmercury**: Sorry this took so long!!! Here's the new drabble!!! I hope you like it!!!

**Hink**: Don't we all! Thanks for the review!!!


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